He looked up. "What was that?" Then he chuckled and leaned back in his metallic folding chair, clearly relaxed. "No, no, no, my friend! You will not distract from our friendly competitive game." With a smile still on his cherubic face, he focused on the board in front of him. He raised a piece and paused. "The key to a good game of checkers, my friend, is to only jump when necessary. You see, old friend, a jump is the attack of a checker - its only attack. On the checkers board all are equal and all can be taken down. Even a mighty king can fall from the blow of any lesser piece." With an eye on his opponent, he jumped three pieces. "The game of checkers holds many parallels to life, wouldn't you say? A simple 'jump' can take out anyone. No one is completely safe, not even the 'kings'. Of course, once you are chased by a king, sooner or later, you will be no more." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and considered. "No, my friend, I do not think you wish to do that. Be forewarned that I will not provide you with too much advice." He winked. "I have made that mistake once too often before." His eyes widened suddenly. "What a devilishly clever move. I must say, I did not anticipate it." His eyes narrowed and swept across the board. "Hmm, now I am in a quandary indeed. You know, I once had an interesting experience with a man who thwarted me at every turn for nearly a year. Of course I caught up with him eventually, but what a challenge he gave me! Almost like the challenge you're giving me now." He smiled and nodded. "But I'm afraid you have made a fatal mistake. You have neglected to pursue the opportunity to king one of your pieces." With barely- contained glee, he jumped several pieces in succession. He leaned back once again with a long sigh and smirked at his opponent, his baby-like face crinkling up like a newborn's. "Rather telling, really," he mused. "You play your checkers game much as you play your life; all blazing forward attack; with barely time to think things through. And that, my friend, is the reason I will always defeat you in either game." With a quick swipe of his arm, he cleaned off the remaining pieces. "Shall we play again? I would be willing to let you exercise another attempt in futility." The sound of Mussorgsky's "A Night on Bald Mountain" trilled from the man's waist level. He pulled out his cell phone with a thoughtful look. "Now, that is odd. Everyone knows that I am not to be disturbed while I am playing checkers." He frowned, seeing the message, and tucked the cell back into his belt. Bishop to Take Black Rook -Deep Blue The Bishop clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Well, it appears our lovely time is at an end, old friend. Pity. I was looking forward to another game." The man in front of him said nothing - as it was hard to speak when gagged and bound with chains. The bound man tried to struggle, but only succeeded in rocking his chair back and forth meaninglessly. His eyes looked wildly behind him, at the edge of the cliff where he tottered. The Bishop stood up to his full seven foot form, his childlike face twisted into a sorrowful shape. "A pity," he said again, adjusting the diamond-encrusted golden cross around his neck. He kissed it once and lifted his massive gold mace from the ground and gently caressed its jewel encrusted surface. He reached over to gently nudge the bound and gagged man. He sighed as he watched the body hit the waters below. "A pity."    tHe bLacK pAcK    Part 10, Day 16: Confessions of a Madman   impro begun by MtB; 7/22/2-7/25/2 herein continued by Jeremy Fogelman; 4/2/3-4/11/3   Foster frowned again. It seemed like he had been frowning a lot lately, but Garrick knew it was justified. In his mind, at least. "What does that feeling mean?" Garrick grumbled. His mind kept going back to the events earlier that day, when Genji and Kaoru had left to go back to Japan, and the Black Pack was preparing to move to a new, more secure site.  Geraldine looked worriedly at her brother and then knitted her eyebrows angrily. "Aren't you going to carry one fu- freakin' damn box?" "Watch your mouth," her brother replied. "And no. I'm just supervising." "Of course you are," Alexander said as he walked by carrying a box as big as a couch. "Why would ya do any actual lifting? You just ain't got the muscles for it." Garrick just looked up at the towering figure and glared. Alexander chuckled and walked past him down the hall, casually lifting another massive box nearby with ease. "Don't worry, I'll carry my own stuff. Wouldn't want any of you little guys to drop it." Icy strode up to Foster and looked at him with a blank expression. "What is the problem with you?" she asked in an even tone. "You seem even grumpier than usual." She blinked once, her face staying perfectly still. Garrick shrugged. "I'm not sure really. It's just this feeling I keep getting - like we've missed something important. Sort of like that funny feeling Geraldine had after Alex's room got shocked. I just can't shake it." Alice looked thoughtful. "Well, your funny feelings usually mean something, don't they? But are you sure this isn't just a general feeling because Remy's still after us? He must have something new planned by now. Forsythe's behavior can be difficult to predict." The Demon shook his head and leaned back against the wall. "No, it's not that simple. This feeling isn't like my danger sense - it's not like I feel that someone's creeping on us. It really is more like there's something I forgot - but I can't remember what, only that it's important." Icy leaned close and raised her hand to his face, nearly touching him, but not quite. Her eyes narrowed and she looked into Garrick's eyes. She breathed in deeply and moved a step closer, so that barely an inch separated the pair. With a smooth motion, she moved her hand gently over his face and rested it on his forehead. She smiled slightly and nodded. "Well, you don't seem to have a fever." Garrick snatched the hand and pulled Icy to the side. He let go of her hand and brushed back his hair. "I'm not sick, Icy. And I don't appreciate those kind of jokes. I hate being sick. Hate it." "Is that because of Mom's 'special treatments', bro?" Geraldine asked, passing by while carrying some of her equipment. "Or just because you're afraid you'll hallucinate?" Icy looked at the Demon with a questioning look. Garrick snarled. "That's not funny, Geraldine. Being sick is no laughing matter. When you're sick, you're not at the top of your game. You're weak and vulnerable - anyone can take you down. There is no way I'm letting that happen to me." Geraldine giggled. "You always say that. Although it is true you don't get sick much, you're not weak; just cranky." Icy looked between the siblings and nodded. "Yes, I can see that." "Excuse me, dear," Richmond said. "Do you want to take out the rest of your equipment?" Garrick barely managed to keep from reacting. How did the man move so silently? He hadn't heard him come in! Geraldine, curse her, seemed almost to have been expecting him, as she turned smoothly. The Demon covered his momentary lapse by scolding the assassin. "Go carry your own damn luggage, Gray." "I could say the same to you," the assassin responded with a smooth bow. He smiled brightly at Foster and then at his wife. "So should I carry them, dear?" Geraldine frowned and clutched her equipment tightly. "No, no, no! Last time I let you help me unpack, we had to move again immediately! And do you know how hard it was to replace a Vietnam era anti-tank mine? Let me take care of it. I don't want to talk to Gloomy Gus over there anymore anyway." Richmond nodded and vanished from sight. "What did she mean about 'hallucinations'?" Icy inquired, idly smoothing her white dress from the wrinkles brought about by the Demon's harsh grasp. "I never figured you for that type." "I don't hallucinate," Garrick said with finality. "Never have, never will. I have complete control of my mental faculties, believe me." "I believe you," Icy said. "But then my question becomes: Why did your sister mention hallucinations if you have never had them?" The Demon looked back at the woman with a tired expression. "Just drop it, okay? I just want to get out of here and to our new site. I need to have you and Gray run recon and keep watch for anyone trying to follow us. And I have to find out what keeps bothering me. 'Funny feelings' or no, we have work to do." Alice nodded and brushed back her bangs, drawing back her hair into a ponytail. "Very well, I'll touch base with Richmond. I assume he knows where we're going?" Foster waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, he knows the new site's location. Nice little place too. Of course, it won't be as nice as this one - but we can't stay here, obviously." "Obviously," Icy repeated, raising her eyebrows. She moved away gracefully, and her form-fitting dress moved with her. "I'll let Richmond know." She walked away slowly, more gliding than walking down the hallway. Garrick sighed. "I'm tired of all of this. I just want to have a nice, smooth move today. That's all I want. And I want to get rid of the goddamned 'funny' feeling!" The Demon punched the wall angrily, leaving a sizable hole in the plywood walls. He stopped, and then shrugged, dropping his hands to his sides. "Hell, we already paid for the damn place anyway." He moved over to a nearby window, watching as his team efficiently loading up a van with everything. They had one shot at the move. The Demon knew he couldn't take the chance of being followed, which would be less likely if they only took one trip. Once they were settled in, then they could find Forsythe. But not before. Garrick scanned the yard dispassionately, before settling his gaze on Genji and his girlfriend. They appeared to be deep in conversation, talking about something in Japanese. Foster frowned as he saw the brilliant smiles the two wore as they spoke to each other. Kaoru said something and pointed at the van, causing Genji's eyes to widen in apparent surprise. Suddenly he laughed heartily and nodded, walking over to the van. On his way, he quickly snatched a nearby flower, nearly too quickly for the eye to follow. Kaoru followed closely behind, clearly oblivious to Genji's grab, as she was still talking heatedly about something. The two walked near the front of the van, now slightly concealed from the others' view. As they walked, Genji constantly shifted the flower to keep his girlfriend from seeing it. Kaoru smiled slightly as she held Genji's hand that wasn't behind his back. Genji winked and pulled out the flower with a flourish. Kaoru's eye's widened with surprise, and her mouth dropped open. She reached for the flower and... "Yo, if you finished watchin' the lovebirds, maybe you'd notice we're finished packing up all our stuff." Alexander grinned at Garrick's frosty expression and clapped him on the shoulders. "Hey, we gotta go, and I had to tell you." "Yeah, thanks, big guy," the Demon returned, and then smirked. "Not that I care about you interrupting - I was trying to puzzle something out." "Sure you were," the giant chuckled. "And I was trying to figure out what you was looking at myself. But hey, if that's what the boss wants to see, I say just let him keep on seeing it." Foster didn't respond, but walked past the black man to the door. Alexander followed behind him, still grinning. "All right," Foster said, clapping his hands together. "It's time to move it on out. You're leaving too, right Genji?" Genji nodded. "I wish to thank you all once more for your assistance," Genji said with a bow. "I could most assuredly not have succeeded without your help." "Damn straight," Geraldine said with a grin. "We never would have escaped without my help, in particular." "Is that the same help that trapped us in an elevator?" Garrick said with a smirk. "I would like to think I was useful as well, even if I only distracted Dougall with my 'infuriating smile', right, dear?" Geraldine snickered and slipped her arm through her husband's. "Watch that smile! Don't be turning it on me!" "Of course not, dear," Richmond responded with a smile. Kaoru looked at the couple with an odd expression. "In any event, we are grateful. But we must be heading home. I am eager to see my family again - I am sure they have missed me." Genji nodded. "I myself have some business of my own to take care of - a few associates I must speak with." Garrick smirked. "Yeah, I'm sure you do." Genji glanced at Kaoru and gave the Demon a meaningful look. Foster rolled his eyes but nodded. "In any event," he continued. "Glad we could help each other out. But also glad to see you go. This group was getting too crowded - far too easy to spot." The Japanese man smiled slightly. "Indeed, Demon-san." "I don't get it," Geraldine mumbled. Richmond put an arm around his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry Dear, I'll explain it to you later." Genji and Kaoru bowed one last time, and got into their newly-rented car. They quickly backed out into the street, speeding down the road and out of sight. "All right," Garrick said, clapping his hands together. "If we're all packed up, then only one thing left to do. Sis, you have that little surprise planned for anyone who tries to break into the house?" Geraldine grinned at her brother. "Yup! It'll shake the whole block." Garrick sighed. "Overkill as usual. Well, I guess I can accept it this time. I just want to get out of here. Geraldine, I assume you know that your dear husband will be watching our back as we drive there?" "I know that he's going with Icy," Geraldine said with a pout. "I don't like that at all. Why can't I go instead? Um, no offense Icy." Icy shrugged. "None taken." "Because," Garrick answered shortly. He paused and then continued, "You can't move quietly or quickly enough for this operation. You'll be riding in the van with Alex and me." The African-American giant grinned down at Geraldine, who continued to pout dramatically. Alexander shrugged and squeezed into the van. "Fine! But I don't promise to like it," Geraldine informed them. "That's more than enough," her husband assured her. Garrick rolled his eyes again - it was becoming something of a habit for him - and got into the driver's seat. He leaned out of the window and made hurrying motions with his hands. "And Geraldine - don't forget your seat belt."  "Um, bro, don't want to be a backseat driver, but can you please watch the road?!" Geraldine nearly shrieked in the Demon's ear. "Damn it, I hear you!" Garrick answered angrily, leaning away from his sister. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. You just sit there and keep quiet. And put your seat belt back on!" Geraldine grumbled and frowned, reattaching her seat belt. "Fine..." she mumbled.  The blonde looked around the room frantically, her motions oddly smooth, considering the speed at which she moved. She bit her lip and grabbed the edge of the table, breathing in deeply. "I still don't like this idea," she said to the man who sat facing her, who sat combing his long brown hair. "Anyone could easily see through this disguise. And your disguise is pitiful at best. Those glasses - and that wig! They are far more disgusting than concealing." The man rolled his eyes and adjusted his sunglasses. "Don't worry so much. You'd be surprised at how unobservant other people can be. Not everyone is as good as you, you realize." The woman looked at him balefully. "Yes, of course I realize. But not everyone sent after me will be moronic buffoons. And if - that individual is sent, my days are numbered." She looked down at the placemat that still lay on the table. "Which I suppose may be for the best." "Hey, don't say that," the man reached over to grasp her arm, before thinking better of it and handing her a tissue instead. "After all, I need you to help me find that 'Lord' of yours. And who knows, maybe you'll catch up with this 'mysterious man' you talk about." He shrugged. "Besides, I've always wanted to dress up like this." The blonde looked up and glared at him. "Don't mention him again, understand me?" The man nodded with a smirk. "Whatever you say, 'Agatha'." 'Agatha' winced. "Couldn't you have picked a less ridiculous name?" "Nah," the man laughed. "This way you'll remember it more. And remember, call me 'Soniko'." Agatha rolled her eyes. "Must I tell you again?" "I know, I know," Soniko held up his hands in exasperation. "It's a girl's name. Whatever. The point is, you'll remember it." "I suppose," Agatha acquiesced, closing her eyes before opening them suddenly. Her eyes quickly darted around the room. "Don't move," she said in a whisper. "Someone here?" Soniko murmured under his breath. "Who is it?" "I am not sure yet," Agatha whispered. Soniko glanced up to see two men dressed in trench coats and sunglasses enter the diner. He looked back at Agatha. "Just pretend we're still talking. I'll say something, and then you laugh like it was a joke." Agatha looked at him incredulously. "You can't be serious. They would never fall for that." "Just trust me, all right? We don't have much time." She gritted her teeth and glared at Soniko, but nodded. The two men stood in the entryway for a bit, quickly scanning the room with trained efficiency, each one searching from another direction. As luck would have it, Agatha and Soniko's table was exactly at where the two men's searches would meet, at a table at the very end of the room, where lighting was sparse. "So anyway," Soniko said in a normal voice. "She says, 'That's no penguin, that's my wife.'" He paused and waited expectantly, but nothing happened. The disguised man grimaced. "'Agatha'..." The woman in question looked back at him with a terrible look and closed her eyes, steeling herself. "Damn it all, and damn these foreign customs." She leaned back her head and laughed shrilly and painfully, causing nearby patrons to mutter angrily and cover their ears. The two men quickly looked at the woman then turned away, holding their ears. With looks of anguish, the two exited the diner as fast as they could. "You did a good job. I just hope my ears stop ringing," Soniko groaned, rubbing his temples. "I had no idea your laugh could be so shrill. You have such a nice speaking voice." Agatha blinked. "Really. You believe I have a good voice? I have never heard that mentioned before." Soniko grimaced. "Well, maybe they didn't have a chance before you killed them." Agatha considered this, and then nodded. "Yes, that is probably correct. No one would have a chance to say anything to me. Except... for that man. And he did not say anything about my voice at all." "You've mentioned this guy several times," the disguised detective pointed out. "What's the deal with him anyway? Who is he?" The disguised assassin sighed and looked down again. "Nobody. Only a superior warrior." Soniko raised an eyebrow. "Is that right? I have trouble believing you would accept anyone better than you." Agatha nodded. "Indeed, that is why perhaps I should have died. I live to be the best. But that is no longer the case. I am clearly deficient - I have been defeated by that man." "You hate him, don't you?" Soniko asked. "Or is it something else? Something in the other direction?" "Ridiculous!" Agatha spat. "Inconceivable! There is no possible way I could feel anything for that man - not anything at all. He merely defeated me - that is all. I care nothing for his personality - only his skills. And even then, only so that I may eventually defeat him." "Ah ha!" Soniko grinned. "So you DO want to defeat him! Well, if you help me out, I may be able to help you out. Not to mention giving you any police protection you may need." Agatha raised an eyebrow. "I am quite capable of protecting myself against any minor peons. It is only the high-ranked killers I worry about. And I doubt any amount of police protection could protect me then." "I wouldn't be too sure," Soniko said with a grin, adjusting his sunglasses. "I have quite a few resources that would surprise even you. Come on, I know you don't really want to die, do you?" The disguised assassin looked uncomfortably at the detective. "I am unsure, actually. In a sense, I cannot be the best while he lives. But if he is superior, I cannot hope to defeat him. And I only live to be the best." She shook her head sadly. "It is a puzzle that I cannot solve." "Listen," Soniko said. "Why don't you come down to the station for a while? You should be relatively safe there. You can stay in the secure room - even watch a little TV." "I don't watch TV," Agatha informed him. Soniko shrugged. "But the important thing is, it's secure. So, are you game?" Agatha thought for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, I accept."  Lieutenant Michaels glared at his subordinate viciously. "You've screwed up for the last time. If Lord Forsythe doesn't deal with you, I'll do it myself. And trust me, I will enjoy it." The peon quivered with fear, sweat dripping from his every pore. "Please sir, I didn't mean to - I didn't realize! He tricked me! HE TRICKED ME!" The Lieutenant shook his head ruefully. "It's a little late for excuses. You let the prisoner escape. This will be on my head, not just yours. If I sacrifice you, our leader may just be merciful to let me live. I'm not taking the chance if I didn't offer you up." "No, no, please!" the hapless guard whimpered. "I'll do anything! Just don't hand me over to Lord Forsythe!" "Oh, and how will he appease his bloodlust? By shooting fuzzy bunnies? That's not his style. He'd rather dress you up as a carrot and feed you to the damn bunnies." Lieutenant Michaels paused. "Hey, that's good; I've got to write that down." He pointed to a nearby guard. "You! Take a note. 'Implement Carrot and Rabbit Torture Plan and Find Test Subject' - that should do it." "Just give me a minute," the guard said, and turned to Lieutenant Michaels with a grin. The Lieutenant's eyes widened in shock. "You! How'd did you escape?" He scrambled to pull out his firearm. "Don't m-" The escaped prisoner shot forward and smashed upwards on Lieutenant Michaels' nose with an open palm, instantly killing him. With a casual motion, he picked up the guard's gun from where it had fallen on the floor. The first guard shrieked and tried to run away. The escapee grinned wildly and tossed the gun up into the air, then smacked it with his palm. The projectile slammed into the back of the guard's head, and he crumbled to the ground in a pool of his own blood. The escapee looked at his hands with a grimace. "Damn it," he cursed. "Now I have to wash my hands. I better find a bathroom." He looked around and wandered down the hall for a few minutes. He saw an open room with a sink and raced with a grin to cleanse the filth from his hands. That gun had been awfully dirty. Smiling triumphantly, the man turned on the faucet and stuck his hands under the faucet. His face fell into a shocked expression, as he tried, unsuccessfully to pull apart his hands, which were mysteriously stuck together. "What kind of water is this?" Several guards burst out of hidden compartments in the walls brandishing submachine guns. "Keep your hands in the sink," one of the guards snarled. "But, they'll get all sticky," the attempted escapee protested. "Then I'll never be able to use them until I can clean them!" "That's the idea, Slick. We all know about your hand weakness. This is the fifth time we've caught you in the exact same way." He sighed. "I just wish you hadn't killed that lieutenant. Forsythe's gonna be pissed." A voice came from the open door. "Don't worry about it." The guard gulped and stepped back, allowing Remy to step into the room to face the prisoner. Remy chuckled softly. "Ah, my friend, it is not time for you to leave us yet. I still have plans for you - big plans. Plans you could not even begin to understand." "I don't understand," the prisoner whined. Remy shrugged. "You never do. Your mind is completely broken after my ingenious pressure chamber torture; soon your body will be as well, but not before I have use of it." He turned to the chief guard. "Throw him back in his cell. And this time, don't leave a moronic and ineffectual guard there to die. Do it yourself." The guard paled but nodded. "Yes sir." "In that case, I will take my leave. I have much to do this day. Try not to injure those wonderful hands of yours, Slick. I wouldn't have much use for you then." With a parting nod and a cold smirk, Remy left the room.  The prison yard was surrounded by a fifteen-foot high wall with spikes and barbed wire on the top. It would be nearly impossible to scale the wall without destroying it or alerting anyone. Nearly impossible. The Bishop pulled off his gigantic cross and unscrewed it with a smooth motion. He aimed at the floor near his feet and twisted the head of the cross, which shot out a stream of oil. The Bishop nodded and said with a smile, "Slippery." He raised his mace and jumped onto the new oil slick, which carried him rushing forward with a lightning speed. The tall man pulled out a chain from his belt and began to swing it in a circle rapidly. As he neared the wall, he left the chain fly up to latch onto one of the spikes. He pulled with a quick motion, and jumped, flying cleanly over the spiked wall. He landed with a small bump and looked around. The place seemed to be mostly deserted - so much the better. The Bishop wrapped up his chain in his belt and strapped the mace to his back. With a nod, he casually began scanning the prison yard. Only the searchlights were still on, but the Bishop needed far less to find what he was looking for. His eyes focused on a pair of light, almost imperceptible imprints on the ground. They seemed slightly out of place among the heavy treads and footprints of guards. The Bishop nodded and frowned. She had escaped the prison - but then, that was to be expected. The manner in which she did it - that was the key. The Bishop stood up and stretched, walking along the prison yard, easily maneuvering around all the searchlight paths. He would not be surprised if others had attempted to catch their quarry - but he would be surprised if they had succeeded. He reached down and let a few grains of sand slip through his oily fingers. "She is a slippery one indeed. Almost worthy of the Bishop. But of course, no one could be. She will be saying her prayers soon enough." Satisfied, the towering man raced toward a nearby wall and jumped straight up. While in midair, he pulled out his mace and used it to propel himself over the walls, slipping between the searchlight trails. Slippery.  The Silent Knife stood on the rooftop, hidden in the shadows, silently watching the nondescript van speed down the road. A car turned smoothly onto the road, moving at a similar pace several meters behind. Richmond's eyes narrowed. It was definitely following the van. Well, time to put a stop to that. He pressed a button on the silent radio on his belt and waited. In less than a minute, a motorcycle sped onto the road and overtook the car, quickly passing it by. The bike moved in front of the car and continued to drive smoothly, slightly slowing down every foot, until soon both the motorcycle and the car were moving at half their previous speed. The car kept trying to move out of the lane, but the bike swerved back and forth, keeping the car from moving forward. Richmond nodded at the figure who rode the vehicle. "Good work, Icy," he murmured with a smile. Now it was his turn. With lightning speed, Richmond slid down the wall and across the street, landing on the car just as it passed by with complete silence. With smooth motions, he tossed a few small caltrops in the direct path of the vehicle, then vaulted off onto the back of Icy's motorcycle. Icy maneuvered the bike out of the path of the now completely out of control car, which began to spin around. The car skidded across the street before smashing into the side a nearby building, completely totaling the vehicle. "Icy, drive by that building over there. I need to get my vantage point back," the assassin spoke directly into Icy's ear. Icy nodded and drove up on the sidewalk, allowing Richmond to leap off, melting into the shadows almost instantly. Icy slightly and adjusted her goggles. It had been a while since she had ridden a motorcycle, and Alice couldn't remember why she ever stopped. The exhilaration of the tight connection with the road, and the feeling of an intense wind across her face. It was almost enough to distract her from her task. But not quite. Icy smiled to herself. She'd have to do this again after they finished the move. "Yes," she murmured, and breathed in deeply. "Simply heavenly."  Genji looked out the window of the helicopter and frowned. He turned back to the pilot. "Why have we been grounded? We have urgent business to attend to in the city." The pilot shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, but I got the call to head back, and so here we are. Security needs to check something." A solider walked over the helicopter and slid open the door. "Sir, ma'am, if you'll come with us, we just need to take you inside the airport, for security reasons." Kaoru looked over at her boyfriend worriedly. "Do we have to? We just want to go back home." "Sorry, ma'am," the soldier responded. A few minutes later, he had escorted the couple to an area in the concourse. Through the thick glass panes of the secured room, Genji could see the general mulling about in the airport. He sat down and watched as a guard rifled through Kaoru's bags. There was something off-putting about the whole scene - and odd sensation that Genji couldn't shake. "It is probably nothing," he told himself. "Sir, may I see your bag please?" An airport guard held out a hand. Confident that his weapons were well concealed and impossible to detect, Genji handed over his newly purchased suitcase. "Will this take long?" Genji asked in a respectful tone. "Probably not, as long as you're clean," the guard replied with an amiable grin. "We just have to check, you know?" Genji nodded and smiled in return. "Indeed I do." The guard's radio went off and he picked it up. "What is it? Be on the lookout for what? I can't hear you! Eh, stupid radio." He rolled his eyes and turned off his radio as static began to sound loudly. The guard looked through the bag quickly and nodded. "Looks good, sir." He handed the bag back to Genji, who bowed in response. "Have a nice flight." "Oh I will," Genji assured the guard. He quickly weaved his way toward Kaoru, who appeared to be in an argument with another guard. "I'm telling you, there's nothing in my bag! Stop looking through it and give it back to me!" Kaoru stood with her hands on her hips and looked at the guard with an infuriating expression. "You've been pawing through my things for ten minutes!" "Sorry, but I heard about some Asian lady who escaped prison - can't be too careful." "I have never been to prison!" Kaoru said, exasperated. "Can we just go, please? We have to get to the city, and we've been stuck here for almost an hour." Genji frowned as he moved next to his girlfriend. "Is there a problem?" The guard looked carefully at Genji before shaking his head. "Sorry, this may be another few minutes." Genji looked at Kaoru and shook his head with a sigh. "Airports."  Author' Notes: Following David and Mads is no easy task - but I hope I succeeded in at least some respects to write an acceptable chapter. I tried to use the idea of the chess bishop moving diagonally as related to the slippery oil. I gave him chains and a mace as sort of unique weapons, I least I hope so. Genji and Kaoru are at some airport - which one? That can be explained later. Many thanks are due to Jex and the mysterious Mr. G for their early comments. Jex caught the little Genji inconsistency early on. In case there is some confusion, the "Slick" character is supposed to be the one being tortured by Remy last chapter, and he is now supposed to have a serious mental problem - he can't stand getting his hands dirty. And since his hands are his greatest weapon, that means that every time he starts to escape, he has to stop to clean them again. More thanks are also due to DrKultra and Kai Gomi for their help, and Sharyna for her exceptional line by line grammaring and continuitying. Thanks to Segev StormWarden for his in depth response, and Mads, for not only writing the dang series in the first place, but also commenting on this part as well. It's always fun writing for an interesting impro, and I hope I succeeded in delivering at least a small piece of the enjoyment we've had thus far. As always, -Jeremy Fogelman  Akiko frowned as she waited for the detective to emerge from the bathroom. "Perhaps I should just abandon this fool," she mused. "How helpful could he really be to one such as me? Maybe I should just leave him and find the Silent Knife on my own." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully and looked around the room, which was supposedly impenetrable to intruders. Of course, Akiko could see numerous faults, but these were mere policemen after all. A loud noise from the television set drew her eyes for a moment, and she listened to the evening news anchor ramble meaninglessly. Suddenly her eyes widened and she stood up. "Where is that fool of a law enforcer?" Akiko growled and prepared herself to break through the door. "Hey, I got us some- what's wrong?" Sean asked, opening the door. "You look like you've seen a ghost - oh no, he's not here, is he?" Akiko shook her head. "Not my rival, no. The Bishop. He is near." Willis scratched his head. "I believe you, but how do you know?" "Just trust me - I can read the signs." Akiko looked at the detective with a piercing expression. "We do not have much time. You said you would help me? Well, now is your chance." "All right, all right," the detective said, holding out his hands in a calming gesture. "We'll run to the airport for now - and once we get to the safe house, you can help me out." Akiko nodded rapidly. "Yes, fine, fine. Now let's go." She pushed Willis out of the door and followed behind him. The door slammed shut and clicked twice, locking automatically. Only the sounds of the television continued from the empty room. "Authorities at the local jail report that they believe a failed escape occurred some time earlier this evening. Local guards were tipped off when they found an oil slick outside the prison gates and evidence of a grappling chain on the walls. However, the warden has issued a statement that no prisoner is unaccounted for, so there is no cause for alarm. For Local News at 11, I'm Robert Filkes."